


Lost

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Post-Barricade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1211545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marius reads the paper the day after the battle of the barricade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

Really, if they had all been thinking rationally that night, they would’ve realized what a bad idea it was. 

However, they weren’t. Their inhibitions were shortened due to the wine, and excited by Enjolras’ righteous speeches. 

It was silly, Maius realized the day he awoke alone in a hospital bed, that they thought a group of schoolboys could change the world. Somebody should’ve stopped them. 

Now it was too late. 

Marius could only imagine the terror his friends felt in their last moments, how they felt defending what they believed in. 

Had anybody wished that they hadn’t become invested in the Amis? Had his best friends ever regretted their choices? It could have saved them, after all. 

Marius pondered the questions he’d never have answers to as he read the paper or, more, specifically, the very small corner of the paper that mentioned the barricade at all. The deaths were mentioned on another page, along with elderly men and woman, and a young man who suffered a heart attack. 

He’d never bothered with the eulogy section before. He was too young to know anybody. 

They were all embarrassingly short, only specifying that they were shot. Both Enjolras and Jehan’s said “executed” rather than “fallen in battle.” 

Bahorel’s briefly discussed his boxing and other hobbies. Enjolras’ stated that he was executed with his head held high. Grantaire’s revealed he died with his hand in Enjolras’. Jehan’s claimed that he was executed after questioning, and learning nothing. Bossuet’s went over his unfortunate luck. Joly’s talked about his medical advantages (and lack thereof). Both had a quote from Musichetta, their weeping mistress. Fuielly’s claimed bravery. Courfeyrac’s jokes. Combeferre’s literature. 

Eponine wasn’t mentioned. 

Marius put down the paper. 

“Marius, what is it?” Cosette asked from where she was braiding her hair, weaving her blonde hair with her fingers. 

The young man caught sight of Jehan, his long fingers imitating her movements, a smile on his face. 

He stumbled, feeling his back hit the wall behind him. Cosette was at his side in an instant, her hand on his shoulder. “Marius, what’s wrong? Let me help you.” 

“I-” He couldn’t finish, his breath knocked out of him by the vivid memory of his friend. “I want to see it.” 

“See what, my love?” Cosette asked, her eyes worried. 

Marius let his head fall back, hitting the wall with a dull thud. “The barricade. I want to see the barricade.”

Cosette’s eyes widened, but she nodded after a moment, her jaw set in determination. “I’ll ask Papa. He can arrange a car for us.” 

And here he stood, in the Musain, where his friends once laughed and ran a muck, drinking and forever smiling. 

Now, though, the room was nothing but an empty, lifeless cafe. Everything that once personalized it had been wiped clean. Anything attaching this place to the Amis was gone. 

Marius suddenly felt extremely lonely. 

He felt tears slip down his face and fell into a chair, looking around. 

The battle was over. 

And his friends had lost.


End file.
